


And this was a monster

by Kuro_Guardian



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Earlier Work, Gen, Horror, I still don't know what went wrong, Itachi was brilliant but dangerous and malicious, Kakashi was doomed to die, Oh well - the challenges of not becoming omnicidal, Orochimaru and Kabuto were gonna get what was coming to them, Sasuke was slated for death, So very nostalgic, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-07 07:07:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5447630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuro_Guardian/pseuds/Kuro_Guardian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>...And this was a monster, and this was a monster, and this was a child, and these are all corpses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And this was a monster

**And this was a monster…**

See where the skin still exists? See how white and delicate it appears, lines of blue rambling beneath it? Step closer now and look at the almost face with it's incomplete, unhinged jaw. Notice it's sleekness, its fragility. This is not a girl, this was a boy named Sasuke. A little boy quite mad, always fragile enough who slowly lost a piece too many from the gaping hole in his psych. And everyone's to blame including him, but most people blame his mother, others his father - everyone his brother. Mother fragile herself always sheltering him, father never noticing him, brother a mad man who tortured him - never mind nobody ever stood up to staunch the bleeding wound Itachi left behind.

Whatever anyone else says or thinks Sasuke blamed himself can't you tell? Can't you tell from the way his sword leans against a tree not even reached for? Can't you tell from his closed eyes, his still face, the quietly overloading mark at the junction of shoulder and throat? The mark that has brought him nothing, quietly overloading so that soon he'll be nothing but a pretty pyre. A pretty purple pyre lacking identity in a lonely forest far from home.

**And this was a monster…**

These fingers are longer then his have ever been, the legs more finely made. His neck is broken in three pieces abnormally long like some fabled daemon. His head is smashed and the back of his skull is just so many eggshell slivers, brains and blood matted into his long silver-black hair. The eyes cloudy as sugared absinthe tell the story of a fight - old soul trying to reassert its self at last if only in death. Question: Were they so intertwined as to both be dragged into the depths of Hell? Or did the one do enough sinning on his own to travel with the former regardless? This one is worthy of the title Chimera - two monsters merged into one abomination.

Look closely and see the threads sloppily interwoven? The body twisted out of alignment constant bandages unraveling on broken limbs littered with scars despite flesh never meant to. See the eyes bloodshot as the blood red of a false bloodline strives to manifest too late. It's belly does not exist instead a structure of swiftly melting ice glitters forth the light darting through it's crimson interior, fairy frost racing from it to grace the sprawling limbs, the morgue shot face.

Behold this corpse, the only one in something like one piece amidst the apocalyptic vision where once a village stood. Orochibato mad muttering creature sneaking down corridors speaking to persons unseen of things best left unheard. Once a woman slept with a demon and birthed a child who would not die given half a chance. Father and son. Demon and Hellspawn. It seems so obvious after the fact.

**And this was a monster…**

Night covers the forest already shivering to life around him. Lantern eyes creep closer still drawn by the blood but wary of a stance as predatory as their own. He never thought the boy would become something to fear, had thought him a fool and a pawn, but… But even a pawn may become a queen if it can make the journey. 'He is much stronger then Sasuke could ever be.' Strangely the young man does not despair despite the obvious toll blood loss has taken on him.

They blamed his father, the elders, the clan at large. They said they'd seen the signs and should have helped. Foolish Konoha that has lost his brother and the faith of the Kyuubi container. That lost him and the Yondaime, lost Orochimaru and Tsuande but for the very same Uzumaki. Foolish Konoha that will lose it's right to exist soon if his meeting with the boy is any indication.

"You killed my brother", he said because such a thing is expected. Kisame said nothing too busy gurgling his lifeblood though his gills. He expected as much since afterall you don't attack a demon head on like that - but then Kisame was always a bit dim. You killed my brother he said and the demon in boy's skin said, "I didn't kill him - he was already dead by your hand and Snakefreak's. I merely disposed of the body."

They fought because that's what is done at such times. They fought and he lost, but he isn't dead yet. Legless - the stumps cauterized, eyeless - the lids sewn shut, sans one hand he is pathetic, but alive. And so long as he is alive he will be dangerous. Especially against Konoha hunter-nin. Konoha has always been so complacent, always so careless - how else do you wipe out an entire clan with no one the wiser?

'Yes', he thinks as he tracks the sound of talent-less grunts sent to kill a wounded beast, 'Konoha is careless, too careless and soon they'll all die. You don't pick at people like Uzumaki.' He hears a trio drop from the trees and to them he says, "The children of men are monsters, the children of monsters are Gods, the children of Gods are monsters." Then he snaps his fingers - the clearing goes boom.

**And this was a child…**

The battle didn't go well obviously. He hadn't thought it would end this way. Really he thought he'd end up in a bed somewhere when he was too old to breathe. Instead he is being cradled in his former student's lap as the same combs his bloody fingers through his mud-caked hair. It's odd, but kind of nice and the fingers are warm. 'Is it childish to want to snuggle up to such warmth?' Naruto smiles at him and it's like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. "Those who grow up too fast often have the child in them still."

He blushes or thinks he does wondering how the other knew. Had he spoken aloud? Stupid either way. Stupid to think the Kyuubi wouldn't be well-read or rather that Naruto didn't read. Of course he read, hadn't he learned Kage-Bunshin that way? Hadn't he realized how to tame Gaara? Hadn't he always known how very, very fucked Sasuke was and how to help Neji heal? Hadn't he read him like a book? Stupid.

Great now his lungs burn nearly as much as his eyes as he stifles another sob. "It's okay to cry." He sounds like sensei, he looks like sensei and his smile is like sensei's. So very, very warm. So very, very warm compared to how very, very cold he is. His mind knows its blood loss, shock, and poison. His mind knows he's a goner but his eyes see a man who looks like sensei wrapping him in his cloak and holding him tight, and his heart says everything's gonna be alright. "Shh…it's okay."

Its okay to let go so he does and it's the best feeling not to force the lungs to expand anymore. "Its okay", the blond man whispers as he removes the hite, the mask, and the omnipresent book. "Goodbye Hatake-kun." The pyre he leaves behind draws in the ambushers. The tripwire they trigger kills them all.

**And these are all corpses…**

The old bodies quake with fear. They watch him carefully knowing it's futile because his movements are his own and they can't keep track of him any longer. The council is afraid because they know, he knows every attempt they have and haven't made against him. They know he knows of Roots and they know that only the weakest parts were left to Konoha's bias justice. Know the exact number of missing files, the exact break of every broken jaw, the precise mutterings of every tongue-less mouth. He knows and he -

The more militant have come to find bags beneath their eyes and a distinct rawness to their throats. The complacent have discovered the extremes of personality finding their fists through mirrors, their stomachs empty from nervous vomiting, their weight dropping as they pace, pace, pace. The Kyuubi, the boy is angry unless he's mad, unless he's - he's…

They watch him carefully because his thoughts are his feelings are his love and hate and own. They can't seem to hold them any longer. His friends are afraid because he is so much more unpredictable then before and he makes the Uchiha seem stable in comparison sometimes. They know he knows they know about the beast in his belly as does seemingly everyone and what happened to confidentiality? What happened to the Third's law? They know he killed the ones who killed his sensei coming back silent and unsmiling a bloody hite tied firmly over his left bicep. Bloodier mask pulled yet tighter over his face hiding the ever-growing whisker marks.

They watch him fearfully having seen what he can do. They know he took on both Uchiha, killing the younger and taking his eyes. They know he let the older live because Sasuke would never have forgiven him if he killed him. He killed Orochimaru and destroyed Sound - everyone knows that, but he doesn't talk any longer to anyone. Doesn't talk, doesn't joke, doesn't eat - but he'll stand with them sometimes like Shino or Neji or that one time with Sasuke. He'll stand with them but in a way they'll never replicate taut as an arrow ready to pierce anyone who traps him, anyone who touches him. "Get away from me Sakura." Anyone.

They watch him carefully, constantly because his mind, body and soul are his own and they can't seem to keep track of any of them any longer. His teachers, his family are afraid, are worried because he never seems to be around any more and when he is the scent of death and blood cling to him like Hatake's facemask. They are worried because his eyes are a one-way mirror through which he studies them his intent so stifling they find it difficult to breathe. "Kid…" He turns so abruptly the older man is startled. " **Don't** call me kid, **don't** fucking talk to me! I don't want your sympathy, I don't want your empathy, and I damn sure don't want your  _ **pity**_!" And like that he's gone - along with any reassurance Jiraiya might have gotten.

**And this one stands alone.**

He sits in his room staring at his calendar trying to think. There is a pen and a pad before him and on the first line is the simple sentence - 'Things that make me smile'. He wrote that sentence a solid three hours ago and underneath it... there is nothing. He stares at the calendar mask pulled tight over his face one hite around his neck another around his bicep and the last around the hilt of the sword he wears.

If he wished he could soon have a fourth, a fifth and sixth and yet more but that wouldn't make him smile. His mask reeks of blood and the scent does nothing to make him smile. His room is nearly bare but for a bed and a pillow, everything else gone to the rooms he rents in Wave and that doesn't make him smile. Can't because Inari and his family are dead thanks to the stupid Uchiha.

It's getting dark now shadows sliding down the wall over the calendar. His legs don't seem to be attached any longer and for a moment the idea of himself as a doll coming to pieces quirks his lips. The calendar has not changed in all the years since the exam a red circle he continues to stare at. Now he sits in the dark because the light switch is too far away, there is still nothing on the paper but a single line - 'Things that make me smile'.

 


End file.
